By now, you might have seen that little piece of television gold, almost 40 years old now, as Brian Clough is interviewed live for a Calendar special, Goodbye Mr Clough, on the night he has been sacked at Leeds United, with his predecessor, Don Revie, also in the studio.
Clough has lasted 44 days but there is absolutely none of the dark despair depicted in The Damned Utd, as he smiles into the camera and sets out why he thinks he would ultimately have done a better job than the last man – "it was inevitable" – if Leeds had not been so impatient.
Revie is bristling with awkward body language. At one point he pointedly mentions that his successor at Elland Road always referred to him by his surname and it is a look of unmistakable joy on Clough's face. "Leeds had to get someone who was slightly special," Clough says. "Now, I don't want to sound blasé or conceited … " It is compulsive viewing, not least because Revie, then the England manager, appears to be avoiding eye contact by the end. Clough, leaning in, even gets in a wonderfully patronising "good lad". Revie gives the impression that if Clough had been drowning, 15ft from shore, he would have thrown a 10ft rope.
As feuds go, Nigel Clough versus Billy Davies, back on the agenda when Sheffield United take on Nottingham Forest in the FA Cup this weekend, certainly falls a long way short of what happened a little further north in 1974. They will not be discussing their differences with the modern-day equivalent of Calendar's Austin Mitchell and Clough Jr's real beef these days is actually with Sam Rush, the chief executive who sacked him at Derby in September, straight after a defeat by Davies's Forest.
Yet the Clough-Davies dynamic is still a good old-fashioned case of two men not liking one another. It makes an intriguing backdrop to Sunday's game and it is tempting to wonder what Clough Sr might have made of the trouble his lad has had with the manager of the club that will always be synonymous with their family name. Almost certainly, fatherly instincts would have kicked in, given the story Steve Bruce tells about going to the toilet during one function years ago and, mid-flow, taking an almighty whack to the back. Bruce ended up getting soaked in the urinals. "That, young man, is for all the times you kicked my Nigel," came that familiar nasal voice. "Now, carry on."
This weekend, it is another minor assault from behind, or at least an alleged one, that explains why there will be few pleasantries between the two dugouts at Bramall Lane. Clough has never admitted delivering a knee into the back of Davies's leg, as his rival claims, during a typically spiteful Derby-Forest fixture at the height of their recent tensions. Nor has he accepted an offer from Davies to be strapped to a polygraph to establish who is telling the truth.
"There's always a smile from Nigel," a former colleague at Derby says. "He's never said if he did it but that was the end of their professional relationship. After that, there were never any post-match drinks or conversation."
What started it all is not entirely clear and Clough's current employers sent out a note before his press conference in Sheffield on Thursday making it clear he wanted it to be predominantly about their FA Cup run, rather than dwelling for too long about his relationship with Forest and everything around the edges.
What can be said with absolute certainty, however, is that the two men are poles apart temperamentally. Davies's ability to pick a fight in an empty telephone kiosk is well known (he would also probably leave the phone off the hook and take the directory home to feed his pet Rottweiler, Axel). He is, by his own admission, the classic Glaswegian "nippy sweetie", with an outrage reflex that sometimes borders on paranoia, whereas the unusual thing about Clough's involvement is that it is not easy thinking of too many other people within the sport who would say a word against him.
Don't be mistaken, however, into thinking the "nice young man" does not have a tough streak. He just hides it well. The rivalry has brought out the worst in Clough at times and he has a complicated, often awkward, recent history with Forest, which might be worth bearing in mind when trying to make sense of how everything unravelled with Davies.
On the one hand, Clough's 131 goals makes him Forest's record post-war scorer, an integral part of the side that reached Wembley six times from 1989 to 1992, and a player who epitomised the qualities his father demanded from his teams, always wanting the ball and seeing the pass. He has been reminded of those times recently and, no longer inside the Forest-Derby bubble, it has been revealing to hear him talking about his former club in a positive light again, emphasising that he still thinks fondly of their supporters – and still harbouring a grudge against the referee Roger Milford for not sending off Paul Gascoigne as Forest lost to Spurs in the 1991 FA Cup final.
On other occasions it has been less civil. There were times at Derby when he spoke of Forest with something approaching disdain, maybe even resentment, and not a trace of underlying affection. When Clough took over Derby in January 2009 he made a point of saying they were the only club that could have lured him away from Burton Albion. Those comments went down badly in Nottingham, where some supporters would serenade him with chants of "non-league Nigel" Clough barely seemed able to mention Forest by name at one point. Davies, nursing his own grievances towards Derby, brought more politics and subplots. The two clubs soon became embroiled in the worst period of conflict in their history. Robbie Savage, the former Derby captain, blames Davies. "Billy really has a problem when it comes to playing Derby," he writes in his autobiography.
Everything came to a head during a 1-0 win for Derby at Pride Park in January 2010 but by that point every meeting of the sides seemed to bring a new disrepute charge. Earlier in the season, Nathan Tyson had celebrated a Forest win at the City Ground by picking up the corner flag and embarking on a victory run past the away end, sparking an almighty bust-up between the players. The next match culminated in another mass confrontation and Davies going in to pull away his players. Clough also headed into the scrum, just behind Davies, and with so many bodies around it is not particularly easy to see precisely what happens next. What the footage does show, however, is Davies look behind him and his expression change. He is convinced Clough has kneed him. "Davies went into orbit again," Savage recalls.
Davies refused to shake Clough's hand afterwards. "I told him I wouldn't have minded him doing it to my face but to do it when my back was turned was cowardly. I said to him he was out of order. He tried to claim it was an accident but he knows, as well as I know, it was no accident. If he's happy to sit on an electric chair and tell a truth or a lie then I'm happy to sit on an electric chair and we'll see what the outcome is."
Davies's theory was that Clough was too wrapped up in the derby atmosphere and that it was not the normal, amiable Nigel when that game came around. "I got on very well with him before. Something has changed and it may be the pettiness of Forest-Derby and what goes around it. I've been involved in Old Firm games that have never had this pettiness."
The people who know Clough best argue in response that Davies loves to play the innocent party and appears to suffer from a classic case of little-man syndrome. The FA did not charge Clough and Derby did not hold an internal investigation. "People say Nigel used to take after his mother more than his father," says one family friend. "He's actually more like Brian than people realise."